


give you sunshine

by foxhat



Series: Berujean Week 2016 [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anxiety, BeruJean Week 2016, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i guess i'm really not sure tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxhat/pseuds/foxhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertholdt wakes up and immediately knows it’s going to be a rough day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give you sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> okay so a few notes at the beginning:  
> A few quick notes before you read this:
> 
> 1\. This was written for the prompt married life, but I got a little carried away and the fact that they're married is barely mentioned. However, I wanted to write something where it's clear how they understand and comfort each other? I swear there's an actual idea behind this, but I'm really tired and not sure how to put it in words  
> 2\. Fun fact that shows how much of an idiot I am: I know very little about kissing so I spent a lot of time touching my own cheek to see where the fingers would fit while writing this. I'm pretty sure it looked a little weird, haha.  
> 3\. I was really tired while writing this. Actually, I'm also tired while posting it (which is probably why I'm typing way too much here I'm sorry I ramble when I'm tired). When I write things while I'm tired they always end up a little weird? idk i just hope i'm not going to regret immediately posting this haha.  
> 4\. The title is from the lyrics of [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1stxUqNJINE) song.

Bertholdt wakes up and immediately knows it’s going to be a rough day. Not unbearable, not in a way that makes it impossible to get out of bed, but just slightly more difficult than normal. He can feel it in the way his bones seem to weigh a little more, causing it to be just a little bit harder to convince himself he should get out of bed. He can feel it in the way that he doesn’t really want to face the mirror, in the way he keeps his eyes down instead.  
He’s not really sure what has caused it– it might have been an incident in the past few days that he only subconsciously remembers, it might have been a bad dream that’s already gone and forgotten but has left a bad after-taste, it might’ve just been slightly too little sleep. 

It’s hard to explain this feeling, even though it fits him so familiarly. It’s a little like being home sick, only he hasn’t been away from his home for longer than 8 hours in months. It’s something about the length of the day ahead of him that turns into a weight dragging him down. Whatever this feeling is, he recognises how it drapes heavy over his shoulders, pulls a filter over his eyes that makes all the colours either washed-out or too bright. After all, he’s had many days like this one, and they used to be much worse.

He decides to let his clothes be for a while longer, and he shuffles into the tiny kitchen in just his shirt and boxers. There’s a blanket lying over one of the kitchen chairs, and he wraps it around his shoulder like a cape, or maybe more like a shield.

When he’s like this, he never really feels like eating, but he figures he should anyway. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, he tells himself as he fills a bowl with cereal and milk. It feels like a chore, but at least his throat doesn’t close up. He reminds himself sternly how that’s improvement. _Today is rough_ , he thinks, _but not unbearable_.  
He sits down on the couch in the living room, but doesn’t turn the tv on. Right now, the noise and light feels like a bad idea. He prefers the silence, and listens to the soft sounds of neighbours moving up and down stairs as he slowly works down his breakfast.

At least the couch is comfortable, and he leans against the stacked pillows after he’s done with his cereal, staring at the blank tv screen for a while. He wonders what he’ll do today, knows that he should do _something_. If he stays still for too long he’ll think too much, and it’ll only get him further down the spiral. It’s something he’s known for a long time, but it doesn’t really make it easier.  
Eventually he decides on cleaning the kitchen, because hopefully the sight of a neat and clean kitchen counter will improve his mood a little. He knows that at least it won’t worsen it, and that’s what settles it in the end. Still not feeling like getting dressed, he starts filling a bucket with hot water with the blanket wrapped around him, a clothes peg in the front keeping it from falling down. 

***

When it’s somewhere close to six, Bertholdt is lying on the couch again, same blanket draped over his body. He finished cleaning the Kitchen a while ago, and it left him too tired to do anything else. The tv is on, but muted, and he watches people talking across the screen, reading the subtitles. The action makes him a little sleepy, and he’s just about to consider if he should just go to bed, get this day over with, when he hears the front door open and close.

‘I’m home!’

Hearing Jean’s voice makes something settle in his chest, something he wasn’t even aware had been restless before. He doesn’t immediately reply, figuring that Jean will find him soon enough.  
Surely, he walks in only a few minutes later, and Bertl gives him a watery smile. ‘Hey babe,’ he says, and Jean frowns.

‘Bad day?’ He asks, and the question is enough to suddenly make him feel a little teary eyed. It’s stupid, because he hasn’t felt like crying all day, but it’s something about the concern in Jean’s voice. So he just hums in response, not trusting his voice. Jean immediately sits down next to him, his hand curling into Bertl’s hair.

‘Do you know why?’ He asks, and Bertholdt shrugs. He does move a little, however, allowing Jean a little more space on the couch. When Jean pats his legs, Bertl gratefully lays his head down in Jean’s lap. He closes his eyes as he feels Jean starting to massage his scalp.

‘Not really,’ he eventually answers, not wanting Jean to worry too much. ‘I’m just tired,’ he mumbles, and sighs when Jean’s hand moves down to his neck, rubbing warmth into his stiff muscles. Jean hums, and Bertholdt knows that he understands, that it’s not just a lack of sleep Bertholdt is talking about. ‘How was work?’ He asks after a few beats of silence, wanting to hear more of Jean’s voice.

‘Boring,’ Jean replies bluntly, and it causes Bertl to smile a little, which was probably his intention in the first place. It hasn’t been a secret for a very long time that Bertl is oddly charmed by Jean’s bluntness. ‘Someone made a mistake when writing down the data, so I had to re-order everything,’ he explains, and Bertl groans in response.

‘That sounds horrible,’ he mutters, opening his eyes again just in time to see the grim smile on Jean’s face.

‘It really was,’ he says, hand going back to stroking Bertl’s hair again. ‘Hey,’ Jean suddenly starts, his hand pausing. ‘I haven’t had a kiss yet,’ he points out, and Bertl’s smile grows a little. He makes to sit upright, and they shift on the couch until they’re facing each other, legs folded up in front of them so it’s easy to bridge the gap between them. For a second, Jean just bumps their noses together, and from this close up his smile is a little blurry. When their lips touch, Bertholdt closes his eyes and feels some of the weight slipping from his shoulder. 

Jean’s hand is lying against his jawline, thumb stroking his cheek. Bertholdt loves these kind of kisses. It’s far from sexual, almost none of the heat present. It’s not like those kisses where it’s obvious that they will lead to something different, hands roaming and stroking bare skin. This is just a kiss, which will at the very most lead to another kiss, but nothing more. It’s just Jean telling him I care about you without having to say the words. It’s over way too soon (it always is), and Bertholdt rests his head against Jean’s shoulder, his cheek pressed against Jean’s neck.

Jean goes back to stroking his hair again, fingertips following his hairline until they bump against the knobs of his spine. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that Bertholdt can feel the air moving through his hair. ‘Hey,’ he says, voice close to a whisper. ‘You want to just go lie in bed and cuddle for a while?’ Bertholdt lifts his head and smiles again.

‘That’s the best idea you’ve ever had,’ he tells him. Jean grins and takes his hand, dragging him away from the couch and towards the bedroom. Bertl never bothered to get dressed today, so as Jean works himself out of his skinny jeans, he crawls onto the mattress and curls himself into the blankets. He waits until Jean is in just his boxers and comes to join him. They curl up facing each other, Jean tangling his legs with Bertl’s.

‘You have cold feet,’ Jean murmurs, but doesn’t pull his legs away. He drapes one arm over Bertl’s waist, the other pillowing his head so they can watch each other. ‘Okay,’ Jean says, as if he’s just made a decision. ‘I just want to say this once, so you know it for certain.’ His fingers drag along Bertl’s spine, and even though he’s still wearing a shirt the gesture makes him shiver a little. ‘I’ll never get tired of you.’ He says it so seriously that Bertholdt can’t help but smile, nuzzling his nose against Jean’s cheek.

‘Thank you,’ he breathes out, thinking that this is exactly why he said yes when Jean had bent down on one knee. Because Jean has always been so good at understanding him, knowing exactly what to say out loud and what to say in gestures and soft touches. He curls his arm around Jean’s waist and pulls him a little closer, until they’re chest to chest and he can feel Jean’s heartbeat through his skin. The soft _badump, badump _calms him, and he presses a kiss against Jean’s lips. It’s one Jean immediately returns, the breath coming through his nose tickling Bertl’s cheek. ‘I love you,’ Bertl whispers against his lips, because they don’t say it very often, but he needs Jean to know.__

__‘I know,’ Jean says. ‘Love you too.’_ _


End file.
